EndVerse
by Gnomie897
Summary: Headcanon ficlets for The End 5x04 . Revolve around Sam!Lucifer, Future!Dean, and Castiel's descent into Future!Castiel. Rated T for mild language.
1. Devil's Deal

The walls are decaying around him, paint peeling and chips of the changing precariously down, far enough to brush the top of his head as he approaches his destination. The devil's very presence, though contained in a minor vessel, brings destruction. And he is supposed to fight this off? A paralyzing fear slides slowly down his spine as he steps up to the plate, his right hand clenched around the small circles in his pocket.

The devil looks up from the window that he has been gazing out of, his face equal parts expectant and pleasantly surprised. "Sammy," he speaks from his deteriorating vessel's lips. He says the name like they're old friends who haven't seen each other in weeks, like he's missed Sam. And Sam fights it, but in the back of his mind he can feel that missing piece that the devil's voice seems to fill up with that one word. "Where's your brother?" While it is posed as a question, Sam knows he need not answer. They are one in the same, discarded by the ones that they loved- that they _love_- the most.

"Yes," Sam says simply. His tone does not waver as he thought it would when he finally came to this moment. It is as bold and as strong as it was when he agreed to let Dean drop him on the side of the road. Now, like then, he knows what he needs to do. It's his destiny. "Yes."

The devil smiles, and it's the last time Sam remembers being in control.

Across the continent an angel feels a cold knife in his chest and then a flaring pain that brings him gasping to his knees. His fingers glow faintly and he knows that they know, can feel that Sam is gone, and a part of him breaks. Next to him, a hunter stares slack-jawed and black while simultaneously managing to look impossibly terrified and child-like.

"Cas?" The angel pants from the floor, choosing not to answer for fear of shattering the Righteous Man. "Right." Dean nods and drops his dulled gaze to the floor. As the angel's grace begins to slip away, the Righteous Man's humanity decides to follow.

* * *

><p>This is the first in a series that I've been thinking about doing for a little bit. I obviously don't own Supernatural, or any of the characters involved in these little ficlets. I love reviews, let me know if you're interested in me continuing this at all. :)<p> 


	2. The Precipice

The first time that Castiel kisses someone it is a possessed woman in her late twenties and his mouth is laced with holy water. Freshly raised from perdition on Sa-satan's orders, the hellspawn doesn't bother to observe the last races of his angelic grace before she sets out to corrupt and seduce him. He tries not to feel pride, she is so distracted by his attraction that she does not notice Dean in the shadows with an exorcism at hand, but it is a human emotion. And Human is what Castiel has become.

"You seemed to be enjoying that," Dean quips in the ghost of what his voice once was and then leans down to check the host for vital signs. It is not that he cares, as Castiel well knows he does not, but rather as a formality. The camp expects Dean to return with survivors in these early days of the Apocalypse- Castiel fears the day that those expectations drop. "I could have given you an extra minute or two with her if you wanted." Castiel expects these comments from Dean, as much as he expects the lack of commitment behind the quips.

"It would have been non-consensual," Cas informs his fearless leader. He runs his fingers over his lips, still damp with holy water and the demon's kiss. After a beat in which Dean seems to adjust to the blatant truth in that statement, Castiel murmurs," I used to see their true faces, burn thm out of existence." He touches the woman's face, runs his fingers down her eyelids to draw them closed. "I've never seen one so human."

When they get back to camp, one of the women wraps herself around Castiel. For the first time, he sees not his father's creation but feels the warmth of her body and the promise in her lips as she presses them to his cheek. Dean looks at him blankly as he brings the girl into his section of the house, but otherwise doesn't say a word.

He likes to think that that is where the spiral begins, the precipice that he tipped himself over and truly began to fall. It's comforting, but at the same time he knows the truth. He's been falling much longer than that.


	3. In For a Penny

Dean catches Cas with the whiskey three weeks later and, as impressive as it would be to his former self, this Dean cannot afford slips like this.

"The hell you think you're doing?" Dean growls, snatching the half empty bottle from Castiel's grasping hands.

"'ey!" the former angel whines, trying to follow the bottle and managing to pull himself to the floor. The look on his face seems to indicate his questioning of how gravity works, but he bumbles on with disregard to that question. "Give it back, Dean!"

"What're you, five?" The thought of raising the bottle to his lips is tempting; the thought of just getting wasted and saying a silent "fuck all" to the camp is beyond that. Instead, he crosses the room and pours the liquid poison down the sink. He can't drink, not now. Not when they've got a town to raid the next day and he's got to take care of his wasted second-in-command. He grumbles his annoyance under his breath as he walks back to Cas, stooping to grab the man's arm and haul him to his feet. "Get your ass up and go take a cold shower."

Castiel does not take well to being man-handled towards the door, showing his disapproval by jerking out of Dean's grasp and stumbling nearly face first into the wall. "Do not talk to me like a child!" The level of control in his voice is astounding when Dean takes into account the number of empty bottles that litter the floor. Chuck will not be pleased when he finds out his favorite ex-angel raided the emergency booze stash. Before Dean's thoughts stray too far, Castiel waves a finger in his face and draws his attention back. The ex-angel in question's eyes are bleary with drunkenness, but he stands straight for one inebriated and talks with the amount of self-righteous anger that his former self always seemed to possess. "I am an angel of the Lord, Dean Winchester. I will smite you where you stand."

Dean waves a hand dismissively and shrugs; his face remains hard with frustration and when he grabs Castiel's shoulder it is with more force than necessary. "Whatever you say," he placates before continuing the attempt to move Cas towards sobriety.

"No," Cas protests, pulling back again and swaying dangerously on his feet. He has long since ditched the trench coat and suit that his vessel always wore, now wearing hand me downs from Dean that hang loosely on his rapidly thinning form. "I am an _Angel_, Dean."

Dean growls, low in his throat. "I don't have time for this bullshit, Cas. We've still got two rings to get and no lea-"

"Make time for it then, oh fearless leader!" Dean clenches his fist in a physical effort not to level the poor drunk bastard. He shakes his head and turns to leave the room.

"We're locking the liquor room now," he calls over his shoulder as he leaves. He gets two steps before Castiel grabs his shoulder and slams him into the wall, pinning him there.

"I will not be dismissed," Castiel growls in Dean's face, his teeth bared in an expression that Dean recognizes as one of his own. He's supposed to guide this angel into humanity. Bang up job so far, Winchester. "I will not be belittled."

"Alright, alright," Dean says slowly, raising his hands to show that he's not going to fight back. "What do you want then, Cas? Cause I can't take you out raiding tomorrow if you're drunk."

Cas snorts and pushes back from Dean, managing some semblance of balance as he straightens up again. "I'm hardly inebriated beyond use," he states, words clear and distinct despite the way he sways on his feet and his eyes swim with alcohol.

"You're staying here tomorrow," Dean tells him with as much authority as he can muster. Castiel scoffs and pushes past him dismissively, but not before grabbing Dean's personal stash of scotch from between the cushions of the couch.

"Try and stop me," he says, twisting off the cap and taking a deep swig before disappearing from view.

Dean lets him on the raid and Castiel breaks his foot, rendering himself useless for two months. Dean would love to say 'I told you so', but then Cas discovers the wonder of drugs like morphine, pot and heroin. A part of him is disgusted by the way that the former angel throws himself into those things, nearly drowning himself in the illusion of bliss.

The other part of the Righteous Man wishes that he could follow.


	4. Late Night Cravings

Jimmy Novak had once described being inhabited by an angel as being tied to a comet. Sam Winchester wishes he could say something terrible to counter that, being tied to the Devil and all. But he can't fight the knowledge that they, Lucifer and Sam, fit together seamlessly. The only discomfort is Sam's conscience, which dear old Satan keeps locked in the back of their head, and the severed bond where Dean used to be.

The fact that Dean gave up hope on saving Sam did not surprise either of them in the least. Sam isn't even surprised that it hurt as much as it did.

No. He's surprised at how physically he felt it. Now Dean is a phantom limb, an appendage that he's lost without ever knowing it existed. Every once and a while there is a throb of pain and Sam's initial reaction is to look for where Dean should be calling his name. But the elder Winchester isn't there anymore.

"You're going to drive yourself crazy if you keep thinking about that," Satan says through Sam's lips. Sam starts at that, having been under the impression that Lucifer was preoccupied with torturing the poor man that had dared to refuse them French fries. Apparently, Satan loved McDonalds. "I can multi-task, y'know. I am a son of God." There is a beat in which he snaps the clerk's neck, then he adds, "And who do you think invented fast food?" It is three in the morning, so no one is there to stop Lucifer as he steps behind the counter and heads to the fryer.

Sam answers him with pointed silence, mentally crossing his arms and leaning against the wall of the cage that separates them in his mind. "Aw, don't be like that," Lucifer croons teasingly, glancing into his reflection in the dark window. "I'm just looking out for you, Sammy. He's your old family, your _fake_ family." Sam scoffs and the reflection mimics him even as Satan uses his body to shake his head with a sad smile. "I'm your new family. You can't deny it. We have perfect chemistry." With no retort to that, Sam falls silent once more, reciting random law statistics just so he doesn't think about anything more personal.

He hears Dean call his name, watches Lucifer tense at the sudden pain that flares in their mind, and turns his back on his brother.

"If it means anything to you, I'm truly sorry," Lucifer murmurs before shoving some fries into their mouth.

Sympathy _from_ the Devil, Sam thinks before reverting to the Preamble of the Constitution. How quaint.


	5. Fearless Leader

Castiel watches through hazed consciousness as Dean takes woman after woman into his room. Those from the camp that do not know Dean Winchester assume that he's always been this womanizing, headstrong man with a bad bark and an even worse bite. But Castiel does know Dean Winchester. So he knows that when the women leave the house the next morning with hard bruises on their bodies, with stories of how fantastically rough Dean was with them, Dean Winchester is remembering that he has a brother to save and no way to save him.

"Are you alright?" Cas asks as he sits down at the war table that evening. The rest of their 'generals' have yet to show up so for now is just an ex-angel and his fearless leader. Dean looks up from the map on the table and quirks an eyebrow. There is a dark bruise on his neck, some new scratches down his forearm, and the deadest look in his eyes.

"Just peachy," he responds roughly, his tone skeptical at best. "What, did you take the rainbow pill this morning?" Cas shrugs and props his feet up on the table, admiring the scuffs on his combat boots before looking back to Dean.

"Just keeping you in check," he says conversationally. Dean scoffs and runs his fingers over the tabs that have been made on the newest Croat movement. "Y'know, fearless leader, contrary to how you feel, you're not alone in this anymore." Dean's shoulders hunch defensively and Castiel recognizes the tick in his jaw as an indicator that Dean really doesn't want to have this conversation. Well, screw him. "You and," he stumbles over the second name, watches Dean brace for it and decides to just let it end there, "you dragged me into this. It's my fight now, too. Probably always has been."

"The hell it is," the Winchester grumbles through clenched teeth.

"Shut up and just accept my help for once," Cas snaps, dropping his feet from the table and leaning forward to draw Dean's eyes to him. "I'm not telling you that I want to hear you whine about all your problems, I get enough of that already. I'm just saying that I'm more than just another handgun. I was a warrior of heaven, Winchester. It'd do you well to remember that sometimes." Dean grunts in reply, neither accepting nor rejecting Castiel's words but it is better than him punching Cas in the face. He takes it as a small victory and settles in his chair, allowing his fearless leader to continue looking over the map.

After a significant pause in which Castiel listens, amused, to Chuck outside calling orders for the next group of raiders to grab him extra toilet paper, Dean moves and takes a heavy seat. "If I said yes now, would it work?" His voice is gruff, restrained and Castiel knows how much it hurts the man's pride to even suggest that he was wrong.

"What do you mean?" Castiel leans forward again, pressing the tips of his fingers together and looking at them instead of Winchester.

"Don't-" Dean wants to get defensive, wants to lash out and tear this moment apart before it becomes something poignant and emotional, but he restrains himself to simply rubbing his temples for a moment. "If I said yes, brought the big Kahuna down for a free ride in Dean point oh," he says slowly, dropping his hand and staring at the tips of his fingers to avoid meeting Castiel's eyes. "What would happen?"

"The big show down would," Cas answers easily, carefully. "Michael and Lucifer would do battle and the victor would determine the fate of the new born world."

Dean takes a moment to think it over, his thumb brushing over his lower lip as he stares into the space just to the left of Castiel's face. "Michael-"

"Is stronger than Lucifer," finishes Castiel with a nonchalant shrug. "And full of more righteous anger than even Lucifer can comprehend. He thinks that he is doing God's work, carrying out God's orders and therefor the just shall prevail." Dean nods, curt and dismissive, meaning that he wasn't really listening to the details.

"Would…" He pauses, bites his lip and starts again. "If I said yes to Michael, would I get anything?"

Though he knows exactly what Dean is asking, Castiel avoids the direct answer that his leader is looking for. "You would be granted peace, like the rest of the planet," he informs Dean, his voice strong and stoic with the remnants of his grace as he quotes prophecy loosely. He can't quote scripture verbatim anymore- something about the amount of drugs that he has in his head. "And, unlike most vessels for archangels, Michael would leave you with your sanity and full functionality."

Dean grunts out something that passes for a laugh these days and then falls silent. He finally looks up to Castiel, meeting his eyes full on for the first time in a long time and not once trying to look away. "Would it change anything?"

Castiel pauses before answering, scratching at the loose splinters on the edge of the table as he processes what he knows of the Host and what he knows of Dean Winchester, what the question is and what it really means. He takes a deep breath, raises his eyes to meet Dean's and says evenly, "It would not save your brother."

Dean waves a hand dismissively and stands up again. "Then forget it." He closes down completely and Castiel accepts it, nodding and digging the pill bottle out of his inner jacket. Their make-shift army generals stomp in seconds later and by then, Dean is in full on 'fearless leader' mode and Cas is stoned enough to be able to laugh at the quick clip in Dean's tone.


End file.
